Their World in that Chair
by Becoming-Obsessed
Summary: That ash-y grey love seat held so many memories. Memories of tears, love, joy and anguish. And as Harry and Draco open the letter that will change their lives, their family, it holds another thing. Tears. Themed after The Chair by ile-o, drawing. Drabble.


**Written in response to _ile-o_'s drawing on Deviantart titled _The Chair._**

**_Kinda just... Came to me._ So. Excuse the lack of emotion. And the slightly poncy Draco. I blame having Jack Sparrow blasting from my TV.**

_Dedicated to ile-o._

_Keep up the beautiful artwork._

_-o-o-_

__**Edit:** Oh. Wow guys. Thanks for- _Wow._ Thank you all for such positive feedback. Um. Well-

Don't quote me, _butttt_,

**I might rewrite this and make it deeper, and longer and more involved.**

But that is a_might._

The topic of gay and lesbian adoption, and LGBTQI rights in general is a very personal topic for me, and even writing this was tugging at my heart strings.

**If you all would like to see something like this, where Draco and Harry develop there relationship through Draco wanting to adopt Teddy, and then they get together and _their_ struggle to adopt Teddy, let me know?**

Not sure if it'd be a happy ending, but we can play it by year. Or ear. Or whatever you wizards and witches say.

_**-8-8-**_

http:/ . com/ gallery/27682120#/ d4sjxxk

_**-8-8-**_

_**Their World in that Chair.**_

"Harry!" A voice screamed through the flat, an ecstatic, breathless sound that had Harry careening around the corner, sliding on the bloody oriental carpet that Draco _insisted_ they have, and flying into the kitchen with his socks sliding off his feet, glasses askew.

"What? What is it?" He placed a hand over his pounding heart, sucking in large gasps of air to settle his violently pounding heart. Leaning against the jamb of the door, Harry looked up at his lover with wide eyes, hidden behind his usual, circular wire-framed glasses. Black slacks, brown loafers and a deep purple button-down that was the softest silk and made Draco's hair look like spun gold- His lover had just come home from work. And screamed like a banshee.

"What is it? Are you ok?" Moving from the doorjamb, Harry took two steps into the kitchen in the flat they bought together and wrapped his arms securely around Draco's waist, ignoring the paint on his hands and the smell of acrylics wafting from his skin. "Did your father say something embarrassing about your childhood in the _Daily Prophet_, again?"

Draco's body instantly leaned back into Harry's arms, and the warmth his lover provided him sent Draco's heart to slowing down. "Harry, the letter came." He didn't even want to acknowledge some of the things that appeared in the _Daily Prophet_ due to his father's extremely loose lips.

The Letter.

Harry's heart froze in his chest, his eyes widening. The letter that they had been waiting for, anticipating, hoping for, praying, crying, clinging to- The smell of acrylics seemed to grow stronger, the sound of a mobile swinging from the ceiling and humming a soft little tune echoing louder around their flat than that of a howler or the magically altered telly. The Letter.

Draco tugged Harry towards the living room and the large, overly cushion-charmed love seat that Draco had instantly wanted to charm from its hideous grey _ash-y_ color the moment he had stepped inside Harry's old flat. But it was still the same as it was when they had met again those few years ago after so long, and it held more memories than said two could actually remember.

Falling into the chair, Harry tugged Draco into his lap, his grey jumper tugging around his neck as the denim of his trousers rubbed roughly against the silkiness of Draco's slacks. Holding up the crisp piece of Ministry sealed parchment, Draco swallowed and grey met green. The letter transferred hands, one tan, one pale hanging onto one edge each, and Draco's breathing felt almost labored. They had been waiting what felt like months, maybe even years, but the letter in their eagerly awaiting hands that had been delivered by owl not even two moments before had been well worth the wait, the tears, the arguments and the joy of their decision.

"They had to have accepted our offer. They _had_ to." Draco's grin was shaky, just like his hands as he pressed his back against Harry's chest, eager, so jittery and eager, to open the letter and celebrate, and start their life. So different from that of his schoolboy anger, Draco Malfoy had grown into a well-respected Potions Master and lover to that of one Harry James Potter, Golden Boy of Gryffindor and Boy Who Lived.

"Draco..." Harry really wanted to ground him for a moment, to bring his lover back to earth and remind him that the Ministry could, in-fact, actually reject their letter. But he, himself, had too much hope, too much faith in the fact that they both had made up for the war, lived peacefully, followed all the right rules, regulations, guidelines, required meetings and home evaluations. They were _ready._

"Please, Harry." Draco whispered warmly, hands shaking ever so lightly as his heart beat like the pounding of a drum.

Harry nodded, planting his bright red trainers firmly on the floor, settling Draco firmly into his lap, and he slid a finger, a simple finger under the flap of the letter and _pushed._

_Crack._

Draco swallowed, his throat violently dry, eyes not so much, and glanced around their flat. Three years together had not dulled the memories they shared, the feelings that bloomed every morning and grew every night. Every kiss was warm, welcomed and memorable, every stroke of a cheek, tucked-back piece of hair. Every present, every laugh, every day Harry and Draco shared together had long since washed away the violent memories of their passed, their failed friendships and even more failed and arduous relationships. Every howler, every accusation of love potion and _Imperius._

They were ready.

Whole.

Complete.

Now for the next step in their lives, and the two were more than willing to jump head-first, after weeks and months of preparation and just as many weeks and months of shaking off old war trauma and moving on.

Draco slid the firm, egg white paper out of its envelope and flipped it open. Harry couldn't read it. He couldn't. Draco's reaction, his unguarded happiness would be enough.

Moments passed in silence, heartbeats grew painful and Draco's body shook with its first recognizable sob.

Harry's hand shot forward to grasp the Ministry oriented letter as his lover collapsed into his chest, tears instantly soaking his paint-dotted shirt. A bright baby blue dot of paint against flushed-red, pale cheeks.

_Dear Mr. Potter and Malfoy,_

_The Ministry has reviewed your request of adoption of the child Teddy Lupin. After carefully reviewing your case, and your connections as godson and cousin, respectively, to the toddler, and your relationship to the now deceased Andromeda Tonks, the Ministry has rejected your request and Teddy Lupin has now been put into the fostering system and will be brought into a wonderful, loving home._

_We apologize for any misfortune this may cause, but we at the Ministry and our child services department feel that the fame, and the infamy, of two wizards such as yourself would just endanger the life of such a young and impregnable child._

_Our sincerest apologies, and with the utmost gratitude to you, Mr. Potter, on your winning fight against You-Know-Who, and to you, Mr. Malfoy, for your reparations in the time of great crisis after the war, and your help in becoming the most well known apothecary this side of Wizarding Britain. We offer you our condolences on the recent passing of Mrs. Tonks. She will be remembered greatly in a time of great sorrow._

_An owl will be sent to notify you of Mr. Lupin's adoption._

_Have a good day._

_Sincerely,_

_The Office of the Minister of Magic._

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

Harry's world crumpled down around him. Months they had waited, and _this?_ Andromeda's death had come has a shock to the whole of Wizarding Britain, and had struck Harry the hardest. His last connection to Lupin and Tonks was gone, from a disease the Wizarding World had never really dealt with. Muggle Cancer. She had wanted Harry and Draco to adopt Teddy. Specifically requested it. And _this_ is what they got in return for years of fighting, war?

Teddy was all they had left in connection to their families. To Sirius. To Narcissa. And Draco had come in and suggested the one thing Harry had wanted to do that had caused their imminent meeting three years ago. Adopt Teddy. Complete their family.

And in Harry's hand was their rejection. Tears poured from his cheeks and landed in Draco's hair as the letter fluttered to the ground, the blonde curling up in his lap, sobs shaking his body.

"H-He's _gone_, Harry! Because we were too bloody fucking _famous?_" Draco held onto Harry's neck tighter, a scream of anguish building in his throat, of anger at the Ministry. It wasn't about Harry being famous. They both could acknowledge that. No one would be a better parent than that of the Gryffindor Golden Boy. It was because Draco Malfoy was a fucking Death Eater. His final connection to his family, his father long since cast away, his mother long since buried, body riddled with disease and fatal stress was gone. They would most likely never hear from Teddy until he turned eleven and, hopefully, found himself on the Hogwarts Express.

Harry's arms wound around Draco and held on all the more tighter. What would they tell everyone? The Weasleys? McGonagall? Snape's bloody fucking _portrait_ that Draco had insisted on them having so Harry could reconcile with his past?

A soft tinkling danced through their flat, and Harry's cry of anguish joined that of Draco's. Two months of work; baby blue paint meticulously painted by hand, white trim, prams purchased, bottles cleansed, food bought, toys cleaned and placed inside a gorgeous white crib that was a generous gift from Molly Weasley, as well has a handful of hand-sewn sweaters, onesies, socks and little pairs of trousers, blankets and scarves. The blanket Draco's mother had given to them as a gift for her first grandchild before she passed not even a week letter, their final gift in celebration of their recent file for adoption.

_Rejected._

The Chair they sat in would always hold memories, good and bad. But as tears dropped onto the ash toned fabric, and Draco and Harry's relationship strained against its bond, sadness and hurt at the Ministry, and the unfairness of the world pumbeled against their hearts and minds- The Chair held memories, good and bad, memories of passionate nights, warm kisses, Ministry summons of Death Eater accusations, interview requests from the _Daily Prophet,_ and rejected letters of life, love, and family.

Their world was stained with tears and sunshine. Their world was in that chair.

**-8-8-**

**I don't even-**

**This feels so unemotional to the normal amount of emotion I put into a drabble. But, ya know, oh well?**

**This was one of the fics I wanted to write to ile-o's drawings. I love her art so much, it stirs so much emotion and her style is flawless.**

**I took a more depressing turn compared to what I feel Cheryl might take when she writes a story to this. Hers will be quality, obviously. ...Ahem.**

**Well, enjoy?**

**I think.**

**-Abraxas.**

**I'M STILL ALIVE- I'M STILL ALIVE- OHHHH AS LONG AS I KNOW HOW TO LOVE I KNOW I'LL STAY ALIVE-... **_**Nox.**_


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